Death
by samstheskeleton
Summary: Today at school, someone asked me what it was like to die. I didn't really know, having never died and all.
Today at school, someone asked me what it was like to die.

I told them probably like going numb, and who really knew?

One: That was a lie.

Two: I knew.

It depended on who was killing you. If they could hardly do it, then it did feel like going numb. If they were inexperienced and would rather talk it over, it felt like something cracking in your chest. If they were cruel and wouldn't regret it, it felt like you were being torn apart.

If they'd done it before... and they _knew_...

It feels as you would expect.

But anyway. So that's what it feels like to die. But what happens after?

The simple explanation: you're dead. No coming back.

The complicated explanation: your essence is, in a way, slowly dissolving. Eventually your memory will fade from existence.

The really complicated explanation: sometimes, if you're determined enough...

You don't die.

Alright, let's look back into that. So you're dead. You've been impaled with bones, or rainbow comets have disintegrated you. Your soul, which is what keeps you alive, is technically only dead if you accept your death.

If you want to live on, then you have two options. Since you're obviously determined enough to keep living, you can either continue, or reset.

Reset.

The magic word.

Re·set; verb:set again or differently.

Basically, go back to where you started. Redo your whole life.

Most people, if they even knew about the whole process, would choose reset. I mean, they already know everything that would happen, so why not be perfect?

The trouble with that is that if you change a thing- _one single thing_ \- your whole life could get thrown off track. You could never meet your best friend. You could go crazy and become a psychopath.

Luckily, that hardly ever happened to me. I almost always chose continue.

What's that? _Frisk, you said you didn't know what happened after you died._ Oh, well to make it clear.

I have died a hundred times.

I have died a _thousand_ times.

I have felt the pain of regret, sadness, failure, and fury pierce my heart.

I have been killed by people who I was friends with once, and people who remember me slaughtering everyone they love. Multiple. Times.

Soon, you'll forget we had this conversation. In fact, you'll forget me... You'll forget Toriel's school. You'll forget monsters.

So why not tell you a story I've never told anyone?

Here we go. Ready?

(...)

 _You jumped, feeling the familiar feeling of the ground leave your feet. Landing on a small platform, you could feel the almost overpowering pull of gravity. Only by your determination were you staying upright._

 _ ***That's your fault, isn't it?**_

 _Your soul slammed into a wall, and slowly slid to the ground. You straightened up, knowing it was your turn. Glancing at your health- it was fifty-seven and lowering- you raised the knife. Running at the skeleton, he twisted to the side. Immediately, you were impaled by a bone._

 _Your health was twenty-three. Then, you accidentally fell into a blaster._

 _Stupid, stupid, stu-_

 _You were cut off by the sound of snapping. Your soul slowly crumbled. Frantically trying to slam your hand into the continue button, you felt your soul reform, sturdy as ever._

 _Black tendrils crept up your arms. You watched as the child shimmered into view. Their form was crackling around the edges, without a soul to call their own. Chara put a hand on your soul, and you flinched. They raised your hand, hitting the continue button. Suddenly, you were back._

 _Back to the yellow hall, with pillars supporting it. With glass stained windows. It was beautiful. You could hear birds chirping._

 _ ***Let's just get to the point.**_

 _You turned around, and upon seeing the skeleton, murmured a number. It wasn't of importance._

 _"109." Try number 109._

 _You stepped forward, and felt the familiar blackness rushing up around you._

 _ ***It's a beautiful day outside.**_

 _You tensed up._

 _ ***Birds are singing, flowers are blooming.**_

 _It was the last time._

 _ ***On days like these, kids like you...**_

 _The last time you would fight your friend._

 _ ***Should**_

 _You promised._

 _ ***be**_

 _This was the end._

 _ ***burning**_

 _You would do it._

 _ ***in**_

 _You would kill him._

 _ ***hell.**_

 _So you did._

(...)

Well. That was fun. The cold, icy feeling you get when you die. The claws reaching up around your soul. The streaks of blood washed away each time I died.

Ha ha, just kidding. It felt like I was burning in hell.


End file.
